For fifty years you've flown into the storm.

A hotel room. Jerusalem, 1974. A cigarette still burning in the ashtray — a prodigal son on his knees for the first time.

Fifty years later, that prayer had built an empire of mercy.

You came home — and built the largest faith‑based disaster response organization on earth. Then you did the rarer thing: you spent half a century flying into the storm while the rest of the world waited for the committee. 767s loaded before dawn. Wheels up while others debate. Hurricanes. Earthquakes. Ebola. 244 million shoeboxes. Field hospitals standing in seventy‑two hours. The hands and feet of Christ, at operational speed.

You read the instruments better than anyone alive. We want to show you something you've felt for years — and never had the words for.

274 million people needed help last year.

The storms are intensifying, the persecution sharpening, the need outrunning every capacity to meet it. You've warned them from the platform — you already know what's coming.

The question was never whether the storm arrives. It's whether the hands of Christ are positioned before it hits.